The tipsy crowd want me to write a chessy line.
They want the dizzy lines,
They like the rough roads they can't take to heart the bitter T.
It's true
They want me to spit fire, they aint ready to take the burn.
but in me is fire without measure.
Burns with no blisters, but heart probing to glisters.
Holy filters purging clean nook n' cranny cos it's fanning.
©experience
E